


Lilith, Night Monster

by Moonlite_drabbles



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Alcohol, Blood and Gore, But only a little, Drugs, How Do I Tag, Kinda, Maybe Romance, Minor Character Death, Monster!reader, Mythology - Freeform, Named Reader, Original Character - Freeform, Other, Reader-Insert, SCP Foundation - Freeform, Slender Mansion, escapee!reader, idk - Freeform, obviously, referenced to native american culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 11:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25350013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlite_drabbles/pseuds/Moonlite_drabbles
Summary: The beats was kept at bay for years, tied up and manhandled like an animal, longing for the taste of blood on her tongue. When she escapes, nothing’s taking her back there.Except a maybe a fateful encounter where an eyeless man mistakes her for a meal.
Relationships: Maybe idk - Relationship, None
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1 - Outrunning Territories

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry. 
> 
> Have fun!!!!

She was running. Fast. Powerful hooves dug into the loose forest dirt as she tore through the woods. 

They had made a mistake in deciding it was a good idea to move her, the metal around her arms, encasing her claws were torn from the van’s wall moments earlier. The agent’s guns were crushed, and her jaws filled with blood. Her first true meal in forever.

She wasn’t stupid enough to stick around, to fight what she couldn’t win. So she took the only other options, running. The yelling of agents, gunshots, and the engines of their vehicles followed her like pack hounds as she ran through the forest, thick trees flashing by her form.

She weaved in between trees, their thick trunks grazing her as she tried to avoid face planting. Her thick claws and hooves carved from bone carried her further and further into the forest.

She was fast, but so were their machines. Sedatives in needles shot from guns and buried themselves deep into her back, she tore them out and kept running. Adrenaline fueling her speed whilst gasoline fueled theirs.

She collided hard with the ground, One of the agents must have shot a net at her because the next thing she knew she was dragged to the ground. Heavy weights wrapped around her legs and torso, tangling her beyond movement.

Thick claws tore through the nets, but she still struggled to get away. They wrapped tightly around her legs, and she viciously clawed, tore, and kicked at the rope. 

The heave ends of the net rooted her to the ground, but she tore through the webbing. After finally batting off the last of the nest, she bolted. Darting between the trees, their damned cycles revved and chased after her, following as she tried to weave through the forest.

Logic may not have been with her in those moments, but she knew that a zig-zag pattern was the safest bet to keep her not shot dead. The image of her monstrous body laying on the forest floor flashed through her mind, her eyes sharpened, and her pace quickened. 

The heavy metal latched on around her neck sent out shock after shock, and with each one she stumbled slightly, tripping over the pain. Red hot burning tore through her arm, bullets. Gasping for air, she struggled not to look at it. Legs scrambled against the earth, heavy as the hooves dug into the ground for traction.

She stopped so suddenly she tumbled forward, the loose dirt colliding with her collapsed form. A sharp static cutting through her ears, and judging by the way she couldn’t hear the motorcycles running and following her, it had affected them too. Or maybe she just couldn’t hear at all. 

On the ground, she grabbed and scratched at her doe-like ears with thick bone claws that replaced her fingers. Screams that were more animal than human tore through her throat and into the night, but she didn’t register it.

Her body felt heavy, buzzing similarly to the static in her ears. Limbs hung loosely at her sides and her legs shook unsteadily as she tried to get them back beneath her, to get them up and keep moving. She looked up, staring through blonde hair hanging over her face. Powerful hind legs made of thick bone somehow couldn’t hold her starved-thin weight. 

She struggled to piece that together in her head, ignoring the way her mind also seemed to cloud over. The metal collar around her neck still sent her convulsing, at a strength that would have made a normal human pass out, maybe even making a child die. But no, she instead got to feel every excruciating moment. Every bit of electricity sent tearing through her system.

Sharp teeth bit deep into her lip, forcing herself to stay lucid with pain. Her wolf-like teeth tore at the skin until blood flowed from her mouth.

She dug her bone claws into the dirt, and forced herself into sitting up, then she collapsed back down. The cool earth in the fall night was good enough for her, she didn’t care. In fact, she reveled in the relief it brought her overheated system. 

Against the forest floor, she laid in twitching, tortured positions for any time between seconds and minutes. Finally, she found the strength to lift her arms. The sharp, bone carved fingers--not fingers, claws--scratched uselessly at the collar. Whimpering, she knew it was for nothing.

She once again forced herself to her feet and continued running as far as her feet could take her. She smelled it in the air, this was not her territory. Heightened senses overloaded, her nose picked up the mark of another creature, even over the lingering smell of burning flesh. 

Whatever owned this forest. It was far older and far stronger than her. And it was territorial.

Through the forest, she hoped she was near the edge. Panting heavily, her throat dry as sandpaper, she slowed. Instead of the beating of hooves quickly against the ground, she let them carry her slowly through the forest.

Her pale skin, not touched by enough sun to give it an ounce of color, shimmered brightly in the moonlight that cast down through the tree branches. Long blond hairs tangled and caught through her one antler, the other snapped off ages ago.

The distant sound of cracking branches and twisted leaves floated away as she followed the thick scent of man-made buildings and smog that seemed so comforting in the moment. As she ran her few last sprints, she looked over her shoulder, eyes catching onto a thing, white, faceless form that seemed to make the static she had tuned out sink away slowly, but as soon as she turned back to stare at what was ahead of her, she found she couldn’t remember what she saw.

Only a warning to not come back, and the pressing force of something much older, and much more powerful letting her go. She thanked it with a panted out promise under her breath, a promise to never return.


	2. Chapter 2 - Monster in Both Face and Name

She sat in the simultaneously worst and best apartment she had ever been in. Best because she had quite literally never been in an apartment, worst because the carpeted floors had an inch of dust and dirt matted within them and the furniture was older than she was.

She had been able to pry apart the collar after leaving the forest, her head cleared, and a feeling of itching under her skin she hadn’t noticed was there until she had left melted away.

In the back alleys of the city she now lived in, she managed to remember how to shift. She still ached though, her head pounding from the antler cracking back down into her skull. Her legs, though sore and weak, were legs for the first time in ages, and her head kept tilting to one side in an attempt to combat the weight that was always weighing down against one side of her head.

Of course, she wasn’t safe. Not yet, not ever. A chip buried halfway through her neck, alerting them when she shifted. She knew if she shifted again, they’d find her. But it was inactive unless she did. 

Originally used so that if she shifted during testing or outdoor time in the facility, they could locate her and send backup if needed. The feeling of guards latching metal around her limbs lingered even then. Her wrists felt cold constantly.

She wanted to sink her nails deep into her neck and yank it out, but she would bring her life with her, and bleed out onto the terrible carpet. Even if crimson would look better than the ugly tan of the carpet, she liked what kept her alive exactly where it belonged. Thank you very much.

She made a deal two days after she ran with an old landlady, one week of rent-free and she’d pay it back the next deadline. It took so many sad looks, but the lady seemed to recognize the way her ribs seemed to shoot out, the way her skin wrapped around the bones of her face, and how her legs were stick thin. 

She also recognized the form of her face, the long eyelashes, and a pretty smile. Even prettier before she became a monster. 

Pity, youth, and general beauty. It got her a long way. 

With a decent shower, she was able to get a job unloading and loading crates down at the dock, where shipments came in and out, and a shady man in an alleyway got her a fake ID. A fake life.

She was Lilith now. Lilith Sarah Rontgen.

Lilith. Night Demon. That was her new name. 

Fitting. 

She would be stupid to think she would be able to hide long, and the nerves of being tracked down made her nearly collapsed the first few times she walked out of the dirty three-room apartment. But she got up.

Pulling one of the green knit sweaters the lady down the hall made her over her head, she starred in the cracked bathroom mirror. Thank the world for kind old people, because her third day with a roof over her head the woman found her hyperventilating in the hallway, and she found cookies on her doorstep with a kind note the very next day. 

Her hair was cut for the first time in years, snipped close to her head on one side, and trailed in short, wavy bursts that found their way to her shoulders on the other. The lopsided feel of the half-shaved hairdo reminded her of her antlers, well antler. The other was snapped off by an angry agent years ago.

SCP was her hunter. Secure, contain, protect. They “contained” threats like her, monsters. Strapping muzzles over jaws filled with sharp teeth and poking and prodding as her skin. Trying to figure out what made them tick as if she could be figured out. 

They hunted her down, nearly nothing in her head. The curse had only just sunk into her skin and soul. Not much more than a curious fawn stumbling through the forest. Even thinking about anything long before that made her head spin. 

She could remember facts, but not memories. She could add and subtract. Multiply and divide, she knew exactly what floor her eight grade math room was on--8B--but she couldn't remember what the door looked like or even the teacher's name. Ask her when her birthday was and you’d get a stare as she scrambled to recall anything before hooves and hunger.

She stared down at her hands, her hands. She looked at them with pity and admiration. They didn’t give her an ounce of protection, but they were hers, and they weren’t those of a monster.

Finally, she walked out of the bathroom, pulling an old purse she scrubbed clean in the sink after finding it in a donations box over her shoulders. Sighing and scratching her head, she walked out of her-her apartment.

Work wasn’t hard, unloading crates was easy business for something that was… well, her. A category she didnt have a name for. Despite the fact she was stick thin, she was abnormally strong. The beast side of her carrying over into her semi-normal form.

She breathed in the salt air, basking in it just in case it would be the last time she was there, she waved to her coworkers.

“Lilith!” one of the only other women in this line of work yelled out. Jamie, almost twice her width, with thick black hair and flawless skin given by her Mexican heritage.

Lilith waved back politely, smiling as brightly as she could before moving to her supervisor for today's instructions.

Things were better than they should have been. Far too good. She ignored the hungry inch under her skin, the one that demanded attention, and got to work. There were far too many things to worry about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am once again very sorry. very short. filler chapter. please please please make me aware of any errors or add criticism.
> 
> bye


	3. Chapter 3 - Instincts

The itch was there. It always was. It crawled under her pale skin in packs like wolf spiders. they scrambled swiftly over her bones. Wanting to burst through her skin. 

She didn’t believe in a lot of things, she didn’t believe there was a highest power, at least not one that was kind. But she believed in a higher power. Everyone had someone stronger, everyone answered to something or someone. 

What did she answer to? What controlled her past all conceivable points of logic? what would make her snap her bones under stick jaws of bone?

Instinct. 

The raw feeling of nature.

Predator and prey.

When she was with the SCP, she had a room. It was pure white, a cot strung to the walls, a potted plant, and a small little door that only ever opened once a day. 

She knows that they were cutting her some slack, she knows that the men and women with guns pitied her, things like her. They knew she wasn’t born this way, she wasn’t born with antlers and hooves made out of bone, not with deerlike ears and a torn soul. She was made into it. The men and women allowed her a semblance of her sanity. Humans need things like nature to stay sane. Plants were so wired into our senses we’d go crazy without them. And Lilith’s mind, though animalistic and broken, was human in origin. 

So she spent hours staring at a potted plant, the way it still flourished even under the fluorescent lights. She thought it immortal and named it Esmerelda, having carved the words into the pot it sat in.

She missed that plant. Possibly a little too much

But the door was her favorite thing by far. 

Once a day, a tray would get pushed through, along with the soft, cooing voice of the feeder. She’d devour the bloody meat of whatever she got that day and then listen to the voice. It called her things like “sweetie” and “honey”, names that lit her eyes up as she scrambled as close as possible to the door, pressing deer ears to the cool metal. Every few days, the voice would push through a small watering can along with her food, and she’d get to water Esmerelda. The water was probably what kept it alive, it smelled different, and the voice explained it was full of vitamins and minerals.

It was the same voice that, once a week, would lead her out of the cage for tests and needles taking her apart. The same voice that suggested if they let her outside for a little bit after I’d act better. The same voice that let her see real trees for the first time in half a year.

Course, the voice didn’t last long. And it was replaced with a gruff sounding one. It said that the old one was attacked.

She didn’t eat for a week. Not like the food ever filled her. Meat and blood tasted good sliding down her throat, but it wasn't enough, never was.

There was only one thing she knew for certain.

Human flesh was the only thing that could fill the void of her stomach, even if for a minute. Her hollowed-out body, nothing more than bones, needed it. And the itch was the reminder.

So she stalked out the city streets, apartment buildings and pubs, a sweater wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She of course couldn’t shift, but she could still feed, she was strong.

Blood that she took hours washing off was about to stain her again, pity.

Her eyes flicked around, looking for someone. This part of the city was filled with pubs and restaurants, and the moon hung high in the sky. She was small, she looked weak, she knew it was only a matter of time before a drunk tried to make a move.

In the clustered parking lot of a bustling bar. A group of men sat, one on the hood of a car, the others downing beers. As she walked by, they hooted.

“Hey girlie! Looking fine.”

“Wanna spend a little time with me beautiful?”

She turned waving slightly. Smiling. She wasn;t sure how she did it before the scp, but how to lie slid back to her easily.

“C’mon, have a drink!”

“Okay then.” She did her best not to sound nervous, just small. They kept calling as she trotted over, though those in lesser drunken spurs looked surprised.

“C'mere pretty,” one of the men pushed a beer into her hands, the bottle cap was off the top

She looked at it a moment, then up at them. Even if there was something in it, the void that was her body wouldn’t mind.

She threw her head back and downed a quarter of the bottle, the young men hooted and laughed. She pointedly forced the stuff down her throat, then turned to the men.

“Aight! You gotta radio on that thing?” she pointed to the car, slurring her words a bit

It was a parking lot party, soon joined by others leaving the bar. Car radios blasted, and she traded drinks with the men, and a few women, now by her side.

She wasn’t sure why, but the part came naturally in her as soon as she was surrounded by people and downing alcohol. She by far had the best stamina out of most of the people. She chugged more beer, suddenly finding it very good on her tongue.

A man, probably twice as wide as her, came up behind her as she danced. His chest, probably twice as wide as her thinner stature, caused his presence to seemingly ingulf her. his hand wrapped around hers and spun her around. 

Her insides churned, something stirring the sea of void in her pit of a stomach. She didn't like it. Too close, too tall. Predator, not prey, predator not prey. Somewhere screaming in her skull was the fact she was standing before an unfair judge or a hungry lion. Convinced she was easy prey or victim. A part of her, buried under hunger and starvation, hissed unsafe, alone, run.

A different piece took over. Prey not predator.

“Hey pretty lady, how are you tonight?”

She hummed, itch under her skin reminding her of her hunger. With the pride and bravery the beer brought her, she said, “Depends, how’s it gonna end?”

"You got a name doll?"

"Emma." it left natural.

“Hmm,” he whispered in her ear. “How ‘bout we go down to your place.”

“I live in the literal worst apartment ever, what about yours?”

“If you live anywhere around here, it’s probably gonna be a terrible apartment. anyways, mine’s miles away.”

“You gotta car?” she giggled, bloodlust swirled in her eyes, and the man mistook it for normal lust. “There are back alleys in case we need some privacy.”

“I do.”

“I call shotgun,” she purred, in fact, she truly was the one with the shotgun, aimed directly at his head. He didn’t see it, of course.

She tossed her purse in the back and climbed into the passenger seat. As the man turned on the car, the itch got noticeably more insistent, clawing around her neck. She swallowed and took in the scene.

The man smelled very, very good. She bit her tongue lightly, eyeing up her prey. Her movements were swift, barely hers. Even with the turn of her shoulders or the twist of her neck, it had the grace of a puma, circling its prey.

Parked behind a random building, she kissed him. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his body-

Shink. 

Blood poured freely from his neck as she drew it across, the nail file she had sunk deep into the blood flow was now stained crimson, as were her fingertips. Her lips drew away from his, and she looked down over the mess and gurgling of drowned screams.

For a moment, the same piece that screamed as she met the man, snapped back into place.

The itch was now claws, they dragged across the inside of her skin. They begged her, whispered the promise of the good would come out of it. Promising it was best. It was natural. The primal part, dressed in dear bones and smiling upon her, lifted its deer skull mask and smiled

Her eyes were slowly picked up from her bloodstained, uncut fingernails. Instead, they looked upwards, hoping for some angel or god to pick her up and tell her it was ok. To take her away from the hell brewing beneath her. She only found the car light above her, lit dutifully against the ceiling. Slowly, crimson-stained fingers brushed against the light. 

A little ‘click’ echoed from under her fingertips as she allowed herself to be plunged into darkness.

She let her fingers trail down the man’s neck, digging into the skin with a disgusting ‘squelch’. The nail file was dragged downwards through his skin, taking a considerable amount of force.

It wasn’t like she knew much about biology, or anything about it really. So, drenched in darkness and blood, she didn’t know what she was eating. The fleshy, dripping bloody things that she assumed were organs tasted good. they slid easily down her throat as she scarfed it down, swallowing more like a seal scarfing down a fish than a human eating a meal. Another thing burned as she tore into it… stomach? Didn’t matter, it was swallowed into the void as well.

It must have been hours, exploring what tastes good and what didn’t. Brittle bones snapped in her jaws as she scrambled to get the marrow. The heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach seemed to lessen as more went in, and the less man was left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am once again sorry!!!
> 
> Chapters so far have been short but these were written a while ago so
> 
> edit: I changed some things, btw.


	4. Chapter 4 - Fixed, Fed, Favorited

She had officially decided that bodies were a pain to clean. But, like most things, she had done it. And the payout was... something.

A sort of energy she didn’t have before, something she had forgotten the feeling of over years. The first feeling of something being there. Something lasting for a moment.

She sunk into the empty bathtub, sitting there, bone white fingers digging into her forearms as she sobbed in euphoria. Still drenched in blood, and left in the same clothes, she let the shower water wash over her, her body convulsing with sobbed laughter. 

The digging at her insides stopped. She wasn’t in pain. No, for the first time inn forever, no prickling of hurt came as she let unclipped fingernails draw blood to remind her that she was there still. That she existed.

In that state of happiness, she wasn’t exactly sure she did. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she revealed in the fullness of it all, every muscle in her body loosening.

It was nice.

Nearly three days after her kill, and she felt better than ever. Her steps had a lightness to them, and she felt so much stronger. Her coworkers and boss noticed as well, the way she moved boxes faster and with much more ease, the way she smiled more. 

Jamie--her decidedly favorite coworker--even commented on it a few days ago.

She laughed more, giggling fits from one of her coworkers bad puns, casually in conversation.

One thing that didn’t change though was her body. Ribs still looked like skin was wrapped tightly around them, a sail strung tightly between the poles of the ship. Nothing separating skin between bones. She felt her bones under her as she slept, the bone of her arm all the way through the pillow. On some level she hoped that the look of malnutrition was due to the lack of proper diet. Though, it seemed whatever star she wished upon was just a satellite. 

Despite that, the itch was gone for then. She didn’t know how often she needed to feed, but so far it was not every three days.

Strewn over the couch, she sighed. “Yayy, finally got a day to myself, and a spent it cleaning, stupid apartment.”

Though she couldn’t complain much, at least she had an apartment, and now she didn’t have to cringe whenever she walked over the layer of dust and dirt on the carpet barefoot. The sneakers she found (stole) from a homeless person were helpful. Seriously, had any past resident ever cleaned the place? Probably a meth lab, as her new coworker friend would say, not that she was entirely sure what that was. 

Flicking through the channels on the old tv that came with the place, she relaxed. She had paid the lady lady off for the first week and the second, and was finally able to stuff some extra money in her pocket. Well, besides the money she pocketed from the man

She cracked her neck, and watched some extremely interesting romance between coworkers unravel on the tv. He was a douche, she was a cinnamon roll (whatever that meant) and apparently he was rich and had daddy issues. The girl wanted to “fix” him, and he wanted to kiss her.

Nodding along fervently as she gushed her inner feelings out to her lover, Lilith took a bite out of a cookie her neighbor gave her. It swelled in her stomach and fell into the void. She didn’t need to eat, and she didn’t waste her money buying groceries. But when a back middle aged lady with a kind smile offers you cookies you eat them. “You go girl, tell ‘em how you feel!”

Her phone, a shiny pink flip phone her coworker gave her after slipping the fact she’d never even touched one before, buzzed softly from the rickety counter. 

She flipped it open and squinted at the illuminating words that blinked on the screen. Displayed on the home screen was the name ‘Jamie’. Her coworker, and only current friend. Quickly, she texted back

Ey, it’s Jammmmieeee.   
Wondering if you wanted to chill tomorrow.  
I have to introduce you to horror movies.   
It's the only proper way to build friendship.   
Jamie, seen 4:54 pm

Do you have food? The greasy corn?  
Sent 4:54 pm

Yess, I dooo. And its popcorn u doof.  
Srsly, how do u not know?  
Jamie, seen 4:55 pm

Lilith stumbled for a moment, thinking of a reasonable excuse she typed out a quick Never had it, then immediately deleted it, “no you can do better.” she grumbled and tried again. Doing the same write and delete motions until she found something suitable.

I didn’t get unhealthy foods as a kid.  
I'll see you tomorrow, eight ok?  
Sent 4:57 pm

Course, see ya~  
Jamie, seen 4:57

She sighed in relief, lightly placing the phone back on the counter. She really liked Jamie, she talked a lot and never stopped. Her noise was enough to fill her own silence, and she never seemed to mind. 

The next day, Lilith was leaning over shuffled papers, staring at the all too big numbers printed on the page. Living in a facility for a decent bit of your memorable life didn’t exactly give you many life skills. Least of all the knowledge of taxes. Lightly dragging her middle finger over the touchpad of the hand me down computer Jamie helped her buy, she stared at the instructions, nodding, despite doing everything wrong.

Another man in an alleyway gave her instructions. He gave her a bunch of things. Now she was a person. Finished homeschooled high school, lived unofficially with some made up friends. She was real.

Real people had to do taxes. 

Jamie, perched in the chair that sat in front of her small two person table, laughed. “You woulda thought you didn’t finish high school.”

“Can you please just show me how to do it again.” 

“...why don't you just use an online thing to do it for you?”

“There and online things that do it for you?!”

“Right… sheltered and homeschooled.” Jamie sighed. “Let me help you summer child.”

Jamie did help Lilith sort her taxes out, leaning over the computer as Lilith stood a few feet away, eventually agreeing to help her do it next year as well after Lilith nearly begged. 

Later that night, they both sat on Lilith's crappy, ugly green couch. Though Jamie didn't seem to mind, Lilith squirmed in her place and mumbled apologies. Aach on opposite ends, Lilith didn’t let her within two feet of her small form. She wasn’t sure why. 

The program on the tv was an apparently “cheap” slasher film that Lilith got into right away. The blood was fun. She had seen it all before. Even without her fear, Jamie seemed to make it less scary with her constant commentary.

“Yes, go into the closet, stellar idea.”

“Just grab a gun, hun.”

“Hmmm, kissing in the car as your friends get murdered, classy.”

“I shoulda just brought the purge over instead of relying on your tv program choices.” Jamie sighed miscribly as another teenager was picked off with subpar effects.

Lilith, on the edge of her seat, absently reached for the popcorn bowl, only for her hand to come up empty. The pure sadness and disappointment that struck her face was comparable to a kicked puppy. Wide eyes and soft stare that was soon directed towards her friend.

Jamie broke down into laughter at the sight of a heartbroken Lilith.

“We need more popcorn.”

“hmmp-I can see that.” Jamie continued to giggle, only managing to swallow down her laughter at liliths harsh glare. “Fine, I'll make some more.”

Lilith watched with dopey puppy eyes as Jamie rose out of her seat on the couch and walked to the kitchen, everything was going right for once. Only one hunt, only one time she had to take a life so far, the itch was far away, and wouldn’t return soon, probably.

Still, she wanted a plant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written a bit ago, sorry!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - A Few New Rules

She overestimated.

The itch was back. 

It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.Never left.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.It was back.

Under her skin, crawling, this time more insistent. It nawed on her insides. Threatening to digest her from the inside out if she didn’t satate it. The deer skulled mask lady was growling, her skeletal form clawing at her.

It was an addiction that she continued to feed. Once given the first meal, it wanted more. At the facility they kept her, she ate nothing but raw animal meat. It lasted slightly longer in her stomach, but it didn’t ease her at all. She knew she would survive off it. But the thing pounded in her skull. Hungry hungry hungry.

So, she knew what she had to. She got her sharpened nail file, washed dried blood and fingerprints off ever so delicately. The sorrow and death scrubbed away with the smell of peach dish soap. Then, she tucked it into her back pocket. Easily accessible. Easy. So, so easy. 

So, so bloody.

She pulled a black tank top over her this time, Jamie had told her it showed off how skinny she was better than a thick sweater. A certain type of guy liked that.

She showed herself off to herself in the mirror, twisting and checking, looking over her shoulder to make sure her nail file was well hidden. She jumped at a loud, chiming sound that struck through the room, before relaxing. It was just her phone.

She checked the caller ID, Jamie, sighing with a soft smile, she pressed the answer button.

“Hey Jamie.”

“Yo, whatcha doing tonight? I need someone to laugh at slashers with me tonight, so obviously, i thought, ‘who’s a little sociopath who isn’t scared of blood and likes popcorn?’, sadly, I couldn’t find anyone, so I’m settling for you.”

“Ha ha… so um” Lilith swallowed and looked around, until settling on a half truth, “I’m actually going out tonight… you know, to a bar?”

“A bar?”

“Yes…?”

“Honestly, you didn’t seem like the type of person to want to go to a bar, but to each their own I guess.” Jamie’s muffled voice came through the phone.

“Yep! I was just gonna head down now.”

“Which one?”

“Uh, Waterfire…?” she answered unsteadily. Truthfully she was going to find some drunk guy or something similar. But being there would be a good alibi. She nodded, smiling an confident in her decision making.

Jamie clicked her tongue, “Downtown?”

“Yes.”

“Cool, I'll meet you there!”

“Wait-” dial tone. Lilith froze, despair painting her face. 

She chucked the phone against her pillow, soon to be followed by her body. Snuggling her face into the pillow, she mumbled. “Oh no.”

Of course, she couldn’t hunt when Jamie was there hanging out with her. I mean, she could just pick up a guy at the end. But if Jamie sees her leaving with the guy and the guy turns up missing the next day that’s gonna be a problem. Big big problem. And then she’d get reported and Jamie wouldn’t be her friend and-why her? 

Lilith crashed deeper into her bed, burying her nails into her temples. Stuffing down a few sobs and the stinging at the corners of her eyes, she gave up. She’d have to just deal with the itch, just for today.

Except she couldn’t. It was much more insistent, growling and pawing at her insides as it realised she was denying it food. It was near painful. No, she could just wimp out, go to a different bar and say she got sick, but then Jamie would figure it out. 

Jamie was many things, dumb wasn’t one of them, but suspitious was. She had heard Jamie talk about all the things that her ex friends did, share secrets and gossip almost as much as she did conspiracy about them. Ranting things out until they fit into a puzzle was her specialty. She noticed things. It was far too late to be sick.

She pushed herself up, ignored the pain currently crawling up her spine, and grabbed her handbag. Tonight was gonna be rough.

She arrived at the waterfire bar fifteen minutes later, blonde half head of hair tied up in a braid that only trailed down half of her head. Even from the outside, she could hear the pounding of music, so loud she could just barely feel a headache already coming on. Despite that, she secretly marveled at how loud the speakers were. Technology was so interesting.

She pushed open the door and let the warmth of the bar settle into her bones, late spring wasn’t terribly cold, but it also wasn’t warm, and the coolness only made the itch sharper. No food and cold made for faster death.

Choosing the barstool closest to the corner of the room, she plopped her handbag next to her feet and waited, eyeing up what would have been potential prey. 

The instinct eating at her insides didn’t stop. She fidgeted in her seat. Fingernails clawing at her palms until blood was drawn under them.

The barkeep seemed to have noticed the way she fidgeted nervously, and in her anxiety induced haze, appeared in front of her.

“You alright hun?”

She almost jumped out of her seat as he spoke. His soft, gravely voice cutting through her. “uh-yes. I am.”

“Nervous? Is this your first time at a bar hun?”

“uh-Kinda. Never really had time as a teenager, too busy as an adult. Sometimes it feels like I’m the only teen who fell for the underage drinking speeches.” Lilith wasn’t exactly sure where this dialogue was coming from--she didn’t remember an ounce of her “high school”. “I’ve only had crappy beer, y’know?”

The bartender smiled through his scruffy beard reassuringly, “Anything you'd like to try?”

“Um, what’d you suggest?”

“Well, what do you do as a job? That's a good starting place.” he smiled, wiping down a cup with a rag.

She briefly considered lying to him, her job did not fit her looks, but his kind smile won her over. “Uh-I moving crates for shipments and stuff.”

“Really?” his eyes flicked up and down her form. He obviously noticed the way her bones jutted out, and her sunken face.

“Ha. Yea” she nodded, slightly embarrassed. She shouldn't have been. She worked for that. She was good at something. She sat up straighter. “I’m much stronger than I look. Hell of a messed up metabolism.”

“How about something fruity? you seem like the sort to like that. But with just a bit more vodka.”

“Ok then!” she smiled brightly.

Situated with her drink, she sipped on it occasionally as she waited for Jamie to arrive. Around the bar, people with their drinks seemed to smile and laugh, falling into drunken hazes. She watched as men hit on women several years younger than them, and friend groups blurred together as they danced. Laughing, smiling. Her eyes flashed between the crowds and the doors.

Her drink was strong, but it didn’t affect her much. The alcohol barely has time to set it before sinking to the bottom of her stomach.

Jamie finally came through the door, practically sprinting to Lilith’s side once she spotted her. She took the stool next to her, panting heavily. 

“Yea! Hi--um. So… I have absolutely nothing to say for myself.”

“It’s been twenty minutes since I got here.”

“Yes, it has. Time IS linear.” 

“It took about fifteen to get here,”

“Hmhm. Anyways, whatcha got there.”

“No idea.” Lilith replied, sipping her drink.

“Nice.” Jamie turned to the bartender and slammed down a few bills. “Bourbon, old fashioned, please and thank you.”

The bartender smiled, taking the bills. “Real southern lady we got here huh? Coming right up!”

Jamie’s presence seemed to calm Lilith a bit. Her constant clawing at her fists turned into tapping against the glass of her drink. She set her chin against her palm and looked over to Jamie, who was practically chugging her drink.

Lilith gave her a confused look, and Jamie only retorted with a cheeky wink. “What is it?”

“You’re drinking that awfully fast.”

“I am.”

They stayed in silence a moment. Lilith only broke the silence to huff playfully and ask, “any reason why?”

“Nope! Anyways,” Jamie looked about the bar happily, her smile widening as her eyes caught onto a group of frat looking boys, “Ima go talk to them.”

“Jamie-” but it was too late, she had already trotted off.

She cursed under her breath, a word jamie had taught her and she didn’t quite know the meaning of yet, and set her face into her hands. Why in the world would Jamie show up only to abandon her? She should have just let the phone go to voicemail. New rule: never answer Jamie’s calls before going out to hunt.

The tapping of her feet against the barstool began. The repetitive noise doing nothing to quell her. Her hand wrapped around her drink, holding it a bit too tightly. Fine fingers digging into the cup. Growling under her breath, she quickly raised her glass and swallowed the rest in one gulp.

She let the glass clink against the bar as she set it down, wiping her mouth as she forced herself to swallow the liquid. It burned as it slid her throat. 

The itching under her skin moved up to her neck, swirling around her throat as it seemed to inspect the alcohol. When it realised it wasn’t blood or anything similar, it grew angry. Seeming to burn and contract.

She found herself sitting there, still like a cowering mouse as the itch choked her. Constricting around her throat. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, and she found she couldn’t move to wipe them away.

All at once, her body tensed… then released. Finding herself able to move once again, she scrambled to leave, snatching up her purse and throwing a few bills onto the bar. Quickly, she left the bar. Not even acknowledging Jamie as she fled. The itch was no longer choking her, but instead throbbing and begging to take over. 

She tried to resist the urge to run as she moved throughout the city streets. Her sandals pounded rhythmically against pavement as she walked under streetlights. She pulled the nail file from her back pocket, clenching it in her tight fist.

Her mind wasn’t producing any cohesive thoughts, instead there were a million unconnected ones threaded together in her head as she moved. Only one thing was for certain, if she didn’t eat, the itch would make sure she did.

She turned into a dark alleyway, prowling. Beady black irises glanced through the night, her vision sharpening as she left the safety of the streetlights and entered the dark.

Her footsteps grew faster as she moved throughout the alleys. Her ears sharp and head swiveling towards any sound. Racoons shuffling through trash set off her fight or flight, and the sounds set her off.

Then she saw it. A baker, thick and burly, throwing trash bags into a dumpster behind a shop. Apron dusted with flour. In the glow the open door cast onto him, she saw his happy round face, but felt no remorse.

She pounced, tackling the man to the ground in a heat of desperation. The only glimpse of his face she caugh was the abject terror drawn across it. Not waiting a second longer, she tore into him. The man had no time to scream. She left no body to clean up that time. Only blood in the alley lights.


	6. Chapter 6 - Patterns, Pastries, Partners and Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens

She began to recognize the patterns of her hunger. The itch would subtly begin about ten days after a meal. It liked to linger around the base of her stomach. She didn't realise last time because she was unused to eating what her body desired, and the facility only fed her animal carcasses and raw meat. 

From there, she had three days to eat. Throughout those, it would get systematically worse. It would go higher and higher up her body. Ribcage. Shoulders, neck, throat.

After fourteen days, it would crawl up and finally reach her neck. That's when the problems would begin. No longer pacing and itching occasionally. That's when she would gnaw on her fists and stare too long at her coworkers. People would stop looking like food and become food.. 

She’d never dared test her limits past then. In fact, she hadn’t dared go past twelve for weeks. A strict eating schedule every ten days keeps the blood and death of innocents away.

On her way home from work, the sun hanging low in the sky, she stopped at a little bakery. The doorbell rang as she pushed through and found herself ordering a small, sweet smelling treat.

She ate it at the table next to the window. Small bites of sugary sweetness tingling her senses every few seconds. It was nice to pace herself as she ate, let the taste last longer on her tongue. Fun even. 

The sweetness made her smile as she chewed, even giggling a little like a child with a secret. Her eyes trailed after people on the other side of the glass, happily walking home or to a bar. She made up stories and names for them in her head. 

Jessica Drews, nurse in training, going home to her elderly grandmother who she took care of. Lilo Edwards, a waiter with a girlfriend waiting for him. So many more. The stories happily twisted through her head.

When she finished, the little baking paper wrapper was tucked away into her pocket and she continued on her way home. The sun was lower in the sky, and night bordered on day.

It was late, and the street lamps flickered happily. Eight days after another meal. She dared not feed it in advance, as it may begin asking for food more often.

Her sandals tapped lightly against the pavement, and shops closed down their stores.

She found her way back to the crappy apartment building once again. And finally up to her door. The lock clicked open easily with the key, and she found herself moving towards the couch, collapsing onto it and sinking into the cushions.

Her phone buzzed, earning a grimace and a few swears she still could not get Jamie to explain to spill over through her mouth. Lilith sighed, picking it up and glaring at the too bright screen with tired eyes. It was Jamie, and a request to come over.

Jamie was nice, she explained things and never really made Lilith explain herself beyond a few prompting looks and nicely phrased questions. Lilith puckered her lips, biting her pointer finger as she glared at the phone. Sure she was slightly tired, but she needed to get used to that. Maybe that was why Lilith sent over an “ok” and tossed her phone across the couch before she picked herself up to begin tidying up.

~~~

Jamie, deciding that they were close enough, leaned it to try and hug her. Lilith jumped up in response, her feed causing her to stumble out of the range of Jamie. Lilith, breath quickening, immediately began to look around the room panickedly. 

Jamie’s arms dropped back down to her sides as she watched her friend move away from her, only mumbling a sorry once she had come back down, finally realising what just happened.

“It’s alright.” Jamie mumbled back, sitting down on the couch and flicking through channels mere seconds later.

Lilith managed a sorry smile, joining her, but at the other end of the couch. Space between the two, as always. Jamie glanced down at it, but said nothing.

The tv was a bit too quiet, and so were they. They watched whatever came on silently, Jamie looking between the tv and Lilith. Neither paid much attention to the program, how could they? Jamie just tried to step up their friendship, and Lilith pulled back. Quite literally. To literally.

Lilith blankly watched a bit too closely, just to keep her eyes off Jamie. Her nails scratched at her skin, back and forth like a nail file. Until the skin under her nails turned red and raw.

Jamie lifted her hand, silently letting her fingers brush over Lilith's shoulder. Lilith immediately hopped back, wide eyes staring at Jamie in distrust. A strangled noise rose from Lilith’s throat as she did so. An animal scared.

Jamie bit her tongue, understanding it seemed. And finally, she picked herself up from her seat, crossing her arms and standing before Lilith. An unarmed hunter confronting a wounded animal. Only she didn’t realise it.

“Would it kill you to hug me? Touch me? Hell, trust me? Even for a second?” Jamie looked to Lilith in slight despair. The accusation in her voice was evident, as well as the underlying hurt.

Jamie always noticed. Noticed the way Lilith was always at least two feet away. Each step forward on her part a step back on Lilith’s. The way she never ate the food Jamie cooked. Never talked much during work. The only time Lilith called her over to her house on her own accord was when she needed help with taxes, or needed company. She was Lilith's only option. She tried to be a good one, but lilith wasn’t her only option.

She tried to force her way into Lilith’s life. She tried to make friends the way she had all through high school. The quiet ones were the kindest. The ones with no friends wanted them. A popular sporty girl sitting at the same table as the quiet nerds.

Jamie bit her tongue. “And if you won’t, give me a reason? Please?”

But Lilith said nothing, choking up. Her throat--the unreliable wrench--closed up under the pleas and excuses she wanted to say.

She questioned then if Lilith really wanted her.

Lilith's shoulders hunched up and she repressed a sobbing sound, the alternative came out as a strangled cat's cry. She stumbled back. “Please don't touch me. Duh-don't-”

There was nothing at that moment. Nothing but a quiet breath released as Jamie took a step back, then ran past Lilith. Opening the front door and letting it slam closed on its own behind her.

Lilith, left in an empty room with an old couch and no friends, her body unable to form tears, collapsed onto the carpet. Her vision swam white, and suddenly she was ina room. White. Empty. Alone. Almost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a small piece of this was missing and I was too lazy to write it. Sorry for the lat update, I’m not rlly writing this that much anymore.


	7. Almost Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she was alone, almost.

Almost alone. That's what she was.

The world was white, but maybe that was because her unsteady vision blurred together with the padded white walls.

A girl sat before her. Younger. The short, soft wisps of hair trailed past her collarbone. Even though she was mere feet away, she didn’t seem to realize Lilith was there. 

Emma. That was the girl’s name. It rang through Lilith’s ears, even as no noise rang through the room. Strange and even stranger.

Emma’s knees were folded neatly beneath her, and her small, child hands played with little ragdolls. One wore a pretty piece of felt over her like a cape and hood, a piece of twine tied around its neck. Wide, brown eyes smiled. The other was a little girl doll, with yellow yarn for hair. Its body seemed to be carved from a sort of root, carved too thin for it to be an even semi-realistic human.

As Lilith’s dazed view became more and more clear, she realized Emma wasn’t the only one in the room. Sitting across from little Emma, a taller figure seemed to be playing with the dolls as well. Thin and willowy, a skull of a deer perched on her face. A black hood and cape shielded the most of her body, bits and bobbles strung about her clothes, animal skulls with twine strung through the eye sockets and a little satchel.

Lilith watched more closely, crawling closer to the two figures. Her mouth opened, but the words seemed to be swallowed right from her throat, the void inching up through her body. 

Something pushed up through her throat, slowly. She failed to swallow it down, instead, it began to push at the linings of her throat, cutting off air, spilling into her lungs. Gasps for air turned into desperate hacking and coughing, trying to get it out of her. 

Despite the painful way her body convulsed like a slowing heartbeat, attempting to dispel whatever was trying to cut off air and burned her throat, no noise spilled through her lips. Not a word or strangled cry. In fact, no noise was made even as her limp body clashed against the floors.

Emma and the Deer peered over at her. Emma's eyes shone innocently, confusion glimmering in light brown irises. Familiar. But the WomanDemonWitchMonster tilted her head and smiled. Slowly, the woman raised her thin, ghostly fingers and moved Emma’s head, turning her sight back to her and tapping the doll lightly. Emma’s attention dutifully shifted back to the dolls, humming as she played with them.

Lilith stared, the humming growing louder and louder in her head, covering up all other noises until it sunk into static. Until she couldn’t think through the noise. 

Void choked up through her lips. A black, thick liquid pooling on the floor as she held her stomach, screaming out in pain. Something else rose through her throat thick like rocks. She then felt her chest feeling so empty. 

In desperation, she tried her hardest to push it down. She slapped her hands, strangely cold and boney, over her mouth and aggressively tried to choke it down. It wretched, flavorless meat texture felt wrong, only adding to her body’s desperation to choke it up. Panicked tears welled up and slipped down her face, but she couldn’t sob or scream, or the void would spill over. Slowly but steadily, it moved, back down to where it belonged. 

Finally able to breathe, she fell against the floor, panting as if she had been drowning just moments ago. Between breaths, bits of black sputtered up through her lips, but her lungs had oxygen again. It felt so good to not have her body screaming at her, she laid in her black vomit, unwilling to move, until her eyes drifted away and her breath returned to a normal pace.

Her eyes woke up before her body, lazily taking in the colors of her own ceiling. But as she came to, her panic returned and her limbs scrambled to push herself up. Cold room-not alone-where am I coughing-rock. A panicked Lilith’s eyes shot around the room quickly, only relaxing once she realized she was in her apartment and felt the scratchy rug under her hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the dolls are references to poppets. Tools traditionally used by witches to curse others, like what we commonly think of voodoo. 
> 
> Also, Lilith was supposed to be a reference to the wendigo, though I didn’t make her officially one as to respect Native American beliefs (And so I could mess with her origin story and her abilities and looks, but that was the original idea back when I first wrote this.)
> 
> Also, is it just me or does the creepypasta fandom have a ridiculously low amount of POC? I know that white men commit the most murders (statistically) but I find it weird that I cannot come up with ONE black pasta or even many supporting characters that are black. It’s why I made Jamie Mexican. If u know a POC pasta then tell me T-T wanna see them
> 
> As always, I am sorry, and give me a critique


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